Her Scream
by Brilliant Brunette Beauty
Summary: "I hear it; a blood curdling, ear splitting scream that could only come from a young girl; Tris". Four's POV of what happened when he heard Tris scream to when he let her stay in his room for the night, then various other scenes from the books from his point of view.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I just read 'Divergent' and thoroughly enjoyed it. I couldn't help but feel like this part stood out. It was an intense moment, and Four, or Tobias, really showed how much he cared for her in part. This is a glimpse into what I think he may have been feeling. It's not perfect because I tried to make it kind of lovey, but still on track with Four's personality, so not too much lovey-dovey stuff. Enjoy!**

* * *

The control room is a good place to think, mostly because I know no one will bother me here. No one really comes by here that much. It's not fun and exciting, two attributes that Dauntless adrenaline junkies are always seeking out, so they tend to steer clear of it most of the time. It's just me and my thoughts here now, which isn't always a good thing, especially when my thoughts are consumed by one thing; or should I say one person. Yes, I'm thinking of _her_, of Tris. Big shocker, right? I wish I could shut this down like I can with most emotions. I wish she could be an average, boring Stiff instead of an intriguing, brave, and sarcastic _Divergent_.

The discovery of her Divergence is still fresh in my brain. So, that's why she's so fascinating. She's not boring like all the other girls I know. She's not constantly seeking thrills like all Dauntless girls, or yearning for more knowledge to the point of annoyance like all Erudite girls, or crazily peace-loving like all Amity girls, or overly honest and talkative like all Candor girls. Hell, she's not even completely selfless like all Abnegation girls. She can't be put into a category, and it's what makes her strong. That's what makes me attracted to her, a feeling I've never really felt for any female. It's an emotion I never wanted, and I still don't want it. It makes everything so much more complicated.

I'm her trainer, she's my initiate. I'm eighteen, she's sixteen. I could just list off reasons why this will never work. Yet, I still feel this odd combination of wanting to stop her from getting hurt and wanting to push her as far as she can go until she breaks. Now, because of her, I know I can't leave like I planned. She's in danger here because she can't seem to just keep her Divergence a secret like I can. Now it's my responsibility to make sure no one ever finds out her secret. I sigh and put my head in my hands. I should stop contemplating her so much.

As I stand up to leave, I hear it; a blood curdling, ear splitting scream that could only come from a young girl. My first thought shifts to Tris; if they found out she's Divergent, she's probably being thrown over the chasm right at this very moment. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, filling my blood stream and making my heart hammer in my chest. I won't let anyone near her, no matter how much I'm risking by interfering. I take off as fast as I can in the direction of the screaming. She's screaming as loud as she can, and I hope she can keep it up so I can find her. I'll make whoever is harming her sorry. I can tell by my fist clenching instinctively that I'm ready to fight. Whoever is threatening her isn't coming out of this without some injuries. And don't ask me how I know it's Tris who's in trouble. I just have a feeling.

The sight I'm greeted with is terrifying, and I'm almost positive it will haunt my nightmares for days, maybe even weeks to come; Peter is dangling Tris over the chasm by her neck while Al and Drew stand to the side, not at all helping her. They're with Peter, not her. Tris, who's normally so brave and who tries to fight her way out of these situations in her fear simulations, looks near unconsciousness. It's dark, but I can tell she's obviously beaten badly. She couldn't fight off Peter, who's nearly a foot taller than her an much, much bigger. Anger courses through me as I shout, _"Put her down!"_

Peter drops her, allowing her to hang onto the railing by her under arms, while he and Al take off in the opposite direction; those cowards. They're lucky that I don't have the time to run after them. Drew, however, is right where I want him. I grab him by the shirt before he can make a swift escape and I quickly punch him straight across the jaw. He flails, trying to defend himself, earning me a punch in the lip. The rest of what I do is a haze of anger that blinds me.

All I can think is that he stood there while Peter held Tris over the chasm, preparing to drop her to her death, all because she got a higher ranking. He was going to kill her over a petty thing like that. He was going to kill _Tris_, who's one of the best people I've ever met, who makes me care, something no one can usually accomplish. I want to beat Drew into oblivion, beat him until he realizes never to lay a hand on Tris, beat him until he feels the pain she must be in right now… _The pain she must be in right now_… I was so caught up in punishing Drew that I forgot Tris is on the ground, in pain right now. Quickly, I throw Drew aside and crawl over to Tris.

"Four…" she croaks out, barely conscious.

I'm frozen. I have no idea what to do. Sensitivity and tender loving care have never been my forte, but seeing Tris in pain makes my chest constrict painfully and my heart ache. So, I do what comes naturally. I pick her up in my arms as tenderly as possible and start to walk in the direction of my room. Seeing her so broken, so vulnerable, just doesn't seem natural to me. She's always so strong. I know already that I hate seeing her this way. It tugs at my heartstrings in a way nothing else does.

"Please be okay," I whisper to her shakily. "Please just be okay, Tris."

* * *

"Your hands." Her voice surprises me. It shouldn't, I know. Of course she's awake. She's been unconscious for long enough to be awake now. I can see her gaze resting on my bloody knuckles; bloody from punching Drew repeatedly. When I think back to the reason I punched him, I really don't care how much they sting. Then I think about her concern for me. She definitely has Abnegation in her. She nearly died and she's worrying herself about my hands. It makes a strange sensation pang throughout my chest. I guess it's another side effect of having a 'thing' for her.

"My hands are none of your concern," I tell her before kneeling down next to her, gently slipping an ice pack under her head. I checked her injuries while she slept. To my horror, she was covered in bruises and her ribs should be causing her trouble for the next week or so, not to mention the damage done to her head. She's a mess. It made me want to storm into the boy's dorm and throw both Peter and Al over the chasm myself. They had no right to touch her. Suddenly, I feel Tris's cool hand hover right above the cut on my lip hesitantly, like she's debating on whether or not I will allow her to touch me. Usually, I shy away from all forms of physical contact, but now I find myself holding my breath, wishing for her to just brush my skin, even slightly. She slowly touches her fingertips to my cut, causing sparks to shoot out across my body. Why does the simplest touch give me such a reaction? Maybe it's because I'm not used to being touched, or maybe it's just her.

"Tris, I'm alright," I speak against her fingers, keeping my eyes staring into hers, no matter how much I want to stare down at where she's touching me. That would just look odd, and I don't want her to know about my confusing feelings. Actually, maybe they're not all that confusing. I like her; I'm brave enough to admit it. I like her a lot.

"Why were you there?" she asks, sadly dropping her hand from my skin, where I still feel the burn from her touch.

"I was coming back from the control room. I heard a scream." It was the most horrific scream I've ever heard in my life. This wasn't just a scream from someone who was scared or shocked. This was the scream from someone who thought she was going to _die_. The desperation and the high pitch of the awful noise are still stuck in the front of my brain. I never, ever want to hear that sound again.

"What did you do to them?" she asks. I rub the back of my neck, a nervous habit of mine that I've almost learned how to tame. She doesn't seem to notice.

"I deposited Drew at the infirmary a half hour ago," I say casually. The image of Drew's battered face after I was finished with him runs through my mind, and I find myself reveling in it, like some kind of sick pleasure. I'm not Eric. I don't take joy in the pain and suffering of others, but letting out my anger over what he did to Tris on his face has calmed me to a certain extent.

"Peter and Al ran. Drew claimed they were just trying to scare you. At least, I think that's what he was trying to say." The last sentence tells how badly I messed him up.

"He's in bad shape?

"He'll live," I reply. "In what condition, I can't say." Nor do I really care. I can see the look of triumph on Tris's face, a look I imagine I had when I saw how much damage I inflicted upon Drew. She squeezes my arm, which makes he hold back a smile.

"Good." Then something in her changes. Her face starts to contort into a mask of pain and she looks like she doesn't know what to do. Slowly, she leans forward just a little and starts to cry. At first, I just look on, alarmed. I've never seen her cry besides the simulation day. Each sob feels like a stab to my heart and I want to take all the pain away from her, but I remind myself that this is Tris. She's strong and brave. She does not need sympathy, nor does she probably want it. So, I crouch by her side and watch her for a few moments, trying to determine what to do. What does one do when they have a crying girl on their hands, or better yet, a crying girl who they have strong feelings for? Before I can even think it through, I rest my hand on the side of her face, skimming my thumb across her cheekbone. It feels natural and oddly good. I like being able to comfort her in these subtle ways instead of bestowing pity upon her. If I have to pity anyone, they're usually the people I tend to avoid.

"I could report this," I tell her. Of course, she won't let me. She has too much pride, like I do. I wish she would, though. I'm not sure how I'll be able to train Peter, Al and Drew knowing what they did to her; knowing that they're all cowards who like to gang up on a girl not even half their size.

"No," she relies strongly. "I don't want them to think I'm scared." There's the Tris I know and lov - LIKE. The Tris I know and LIKE very much. I don't know her nearly enough to love her, right?

"I figured you would say that," I reply, using my thumb skidding across her cheekbone to distract myslef.

"You think it would be a bad idea if I sat up?" She hasn't complained about the pain, not even once. She's a true Dauntless, even when she doesn't need to be. "I'll help you."

I carefully grip her shoulder with one hand use the other to hold her head, covered in her beautiful blonde locks that I find myself staring at as she passes me every day. She uses this to push herself up, suddenly biting her lip to silence sounds coming from her from the sheer pain. My heart sinks. She sees me as her instructor who she was to be brave in front of, not as someone who she could freely express how she feels with. I'm not Christina or Will. I'm not her _friend_, no matter how badly I wish I was. I hand her the ice pack.

"You can let yourself be in pain," I tell her. "It's just me here." I can see she's biting her lip to the point of tears that I'm tempted to lean forward in order to wipe off her face, but I do nothing. I don't want to embarrass Tris by mentioning her tears.

"I suggest you rely on your transfer friends to protect you from now on," I tell her. There's no way I can be there to save her all the time, no matter how badly I wish I could. She'll have to put her trust in people like Will and Christina, who are there for her almost all the time.

"I thought I was. But Al..." Tris says shakily, then she presses her hand to her forehead and rocks back and forth slowly like someone having a breakdown. I could easily hug her to my chest right now like I so want to and try to comfort her, but then again, I can't. She'd never allow me. So, I just sit there helplessly while Tris rocks herself in near fetal position, looking more helpless than I think I've ever seen her. Al was her friend, someone she trusted, and he took part in a brutal attack on her. The way she's reacting to it is enough for me to want to storm to the dorm and beat Al up like I did to Drew. He deserves it even more.

"He wanted you to be the small, quiet girl from Abnegation," I tell her softly. "He hurt you because your strengths made him feel weak. No other reason." It's true, but it kills me to know it won't take away her hurt. Trust is something that is not always easily given, and when someone violates that trust in such a grotesque way, it hurts more than anything in the world. Images of Marcus and a belt flash through my mind quickly, but I force myself to push it as far away as possible. Now is not the time.

"The others won't be as jealous is you show some vulnerability. Even if it isn't real." Tris looks at me like I've gone insane.

"You think I have to _pretend_?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

I think of how she broke down a few minutes ago, how she sobbed violently while I tried in vain to comfort her. Then I think of how she let herself cry in front of me without worrying about how I would perceive her, of how she didn't even try for my sympathy or my pity, and I answer, "Yes, I do."

Reaching out, I take the ice pack from her, accidentally brushing my fingers with hers while doing so. The contact makes my fingers tingle, but I do my best to ignore it. I hold it against her head, letting her give her arm a rest. I'm more than glad to help her so she doesn't have to lose any more strength. She needs all she can get right now. I stand up, looking down at her. I notice now how extraordinarily small Tris is. Of course, I've noticed this before. I'm not blind, but it's just now that I realize why she can't always defend herself against things like this. She could easily pass for twelve if you didn't already know she was sixteen. Again, I feel that weird half-urge to protect her coinciding with my urge to push her and make her show everyone that she is not to be messed with.

"You're going to march into breakfast tomorrow and show your attackers they had no effect on you," I add sternly, "but you should let that bruise on your cheek show, and keep your head down." She seems less than enthused by the idea.

"I don't think I can do that," she says hollowly, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. Part of me wants to give in to her and tell her to just rest herself for the day tomorrow, but I know that more harm will come to her if they think they have gotten inside her head, and I refuse to let any more harm come to Tris. This is for her own good.

"You have to," I tell her sternly.

"I don't think you _get_ it," she insists. "They touched me."

I grip the icepack in my hand, keeping it deathly still while I feel anger I have _never_ felt before rise inside me, deep from within my core. I will rip those three to shreds until their bodies are not even identifiable. I'll throw them into the chasm, piece by piece.

They _touched_ her? Does she mean what I think she means? But, all of her clothes were on when I found her… Then again, they wouldn't throw her body in the chasm naked. People would suspect things. The anger flairs up again, mixed in with a crippling sadness. Of all the things they could have possibly done, they beat her and _raped_ her. I spit the word out, even in my mind. It sickens me to think of Tris falling prey to those miserable cowards. I don't even want to begin to imagine her screams, the ones I didn't hear.

"Touched you," I manage to spit out, disgusted by the word on my tongue.

"Not… in the way you're thinking. But… almost."

I let myself feel slight relief before going back to feeling enraged. The word _almost_ cuts through my skin like a razor blade. _Almost _doesn't change what they were planning on doing to her. They were planning on raping her and then throwing her into the chasm. How can someone casually plan that? How can someone decide to just rape and murder Tris because of something as petty as a higher score? I can't fathom why someone would ever do that to _Tris_, of all people. It makes my heart clench and my veins burn with fire when I imagine what could have happened had I not heard her. By her sureness of it, I'm positive she got some hints from them on what their plans were for her. Suddenly, I don't feel any better. If I had been just a few minutes later, Tris could be a lot more damaged than she is right now. The thought makes my stomach lurch and my fists clench. The three of them are dead. I will make sure they will _never_ get within six yards of Tris ever again.

Silence falls over us. The conversation was an awkward one, to say the least.

Finally, she breaks it by asking, "What is it?" Looking at her, I decide what I need to tell her. Despite the fact that it's extremely unprofessional, I don't care. Screw professional. I lost all notion of that the minute she told me they put their hands on her.

"I don't want to say this, but I feel like I have to. It is more important for you to be safe than right, for the time being. Understand?" I keep my gaze steady on her while she nods. Good, she's willing to bend the rules. I knew she would be. "But please, when you see an opportunity," I touch her face, marveling in the feel of her soft skin underneath my fingertips. I tip her chin so she has no choice but to meet my eyes. I like her eyes. They're warm and hold so much more than most sixteen year old's would. "Ruin them."

She laughs. The sound makes something stir in my chest. I love it. It sounds warm and soft, something that makes me feel at peace. It's a sharp contrast to her screams of terror from earlier.

"You're a little scary, Four." _Four_. My Dauntless-born nickname feels so wrong coming from her mouth. I feel all these emotions for her, she let me see her vulnerable side, and she doesn't even know who I really am. I want her to, but when I'm sure that the time is right.

"Do me a favor," I ask of her, "and don't call me that." She looks confused.

"What should I call you then?" She only knows Four, the harsh trainer. In fact, if she knows me as harsh, then I've done my job well. She doesn't know me yet as Tobias, the eighteen year old boy who has a crush on her.

"Nothing." I take my hand away from her face and feel the warmth disappear from it.

"Yet."

* * *

As I watch Tris sleep in my bed, her breaths steady and even, I can't help but think back to that scream that I head coming from her. It gutted me, knowing that she was that terrified. She thought her life was ending in the worst possible way. No one should have to go through that, especially not Tris. I stare at her sleeping form on my bed, ruminating on my feelings for her, and that slip up in my mind from earlier. I can't stop thinking if it's possible. Could I possibly be in love with Tris?

Yes, it's entirely possible, but I don't have to think about it right now. I just thank everything that's holy that Tris is alive and fall asleep to the sounds of her peaceful breathing beside me.

* * *

**A/N: Dang, it's so hard to make something narrated by Four romantic! He's just so... not. But please, tell me what you think!**


	2. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**A/N: Hey, guys! I was pleasantly surprised by the positive feedback on this story, and Tobias (or Four, whichever you prefer) is still my favorite character to write about in this fandom. I have a habit of getting more attached to the male characters in books. I just understand them better for some reason. :) Anyway, after seeing how well the last chapter went, I wanted to ask you all for suggestions.**

**What scene should I do from his POV next?**

**It can be from either book, Divergent or Insurgent. You can request in the form of a review, but I prefer a PM if possible because suggestions aren't really 'reviews', per say.**

**Thank you for reading and I look forward to your suggestions!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry for the LONG delay, but I got a little bit busy. I hope you all are still interested!**

**Anyway, I have decided to put both an alternate ending to 'Allegiant' in this story and an EXTRA alternate ending for my other story, 'Tris's Gift', in this story. I just couldn't leave them both the way they went. :( I understand the great significance death adds to a story- part of the reason I'm posting my other story's alternate ending here instead of on the story itself-, and I won't argue with it, but it still made me sad.**

**Anyway, on with the story!**

* * *

**Cafeteria**

My jaw is stiff as I chew on my food. Even now, my friends can tell how angry I am. I'm simmering with rage at what those boys did to Tris. They're nothing but cowards, plain and simple. I sat down this morning, told Zeke, Lauren, and Shauna what happened, then starting eating without saying another word. They all know me well enough to be completely silent this morning. They don't bother to try including me in conversation, which I'm grateful for. I don't feel like talking right now.

Every once in a while, I glace over at Tris as discretely as possible. She's talking with her friends, Christina and Will. I can see the bruise gracing her face and the slight grimace on her face from the pain. It makes me clench my fists, thinking of Peter, Drew and Al attacking her. I see that Al had the good sense not to show his face this morning, but Peter thought otherwise. He's sitting at his usual table, grinning wickedly at Tris. I hate Peter. It's not something I usually feel for a human being, but I totally, completely hate Peter. I wish he had been the one I beat up instead of Drew.

Speaking of Drew, I turn my head towards the entrance when I hear some gasps. Drew walks in, looking to be in bad shape. His face is covered in bruises and places where skin broke. He walks with a painful limp in his step. I smirk, for once second letting myself be like Eric and enjoy this. When I look over at Tris, she's looking like she approves, so I turn back. I don't regret beating Drew up, not even for a second.

* * *

**Jealousy**

Jealously.

It's such a strange, powerful emotion.

I feel the feeling of pure jealously coursing through my veins as I see Tris supporting Will with his arm around her. Of course, I have no reason to be jealous. He's afraid, and she's helping him through it like a friend should. But I can't help it. I wish more than anything that I was on the receiving end of her arm. I wish I could be that close to her. I wish I could be her _friend_. I don't just want to be limited to being her instructor. I want to be able to be close to her, physically and emotionally. But until that day, I'm stuck on the outside of her life, admiring her from afar.

* * *

**First Kiss**

We stroll towards the Pit, our hands clasped tightly, then lightly, then tightly again. It's all Tris's doing. Oddly enough, it's comforting to know that I'm not the only one who's nervous and unsure. I may seem like the type of person who never gets nervous or unsure of himself, but I'm just the person who's really good at hiding it. Knowing that Tris shares that feeling makes me feel slightly more confident.

Still, part of me feels queasy, like I'm going to throw up from the sheer anticipation from what I plan to do next. I just hope it pans out well. I can't imagine how I'll go on remaining stoic in her presence if I get rejected. That's saying something for me; I'm pretty stoic as is. All I know is that if I get rejected, then it will be a giant step backwards in my relationship with Tris. However, I refuse to go on with this torture of having to be near her, not knowing what she's thinking or what she's feeling when our eyes meet. I can't stand one more minute of just not knowing. I may get rejected, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. I'm Dauntless, after all. I run one of my fingertips down her palm, and I hold in a smirk when I feel her shiver. Having this effect on her is exhilarating.

"So…" she begins. "Four fears." It's a statement, not a question. I have no idea how to respond to a statement like that. Her feeble attempt at conversation just reminds me that she as nervous as I am.

"Four fears then; four fears now," I respond. Yes, it's true. The Dauntless legend, _the_ Four, cannot get over his four fears. No progress has been made, especially not on Marcus. I'm stuck. This whole legend following my name is a big joke; I'm no superhuman. I can't even get over four fears after two years of trying.

"They haven't changed, so I keep going in there, but… I still haven't made any progress." It's not something I should feel ashamed of, but the fact that the thought of my father still makes me cower like the weak Abnegation boy I was is mortifying. I'm not that Abnegation boy anymore, right? I shouldn't feel like him every time thoughts of my childhood cross my mind, but I do.

"You can't be fearless, remember?" she reminds me.

"Because you still care about things. About your life." _And yours_.

"I know," I respond. My four fears may not be going away anytime soon, but like she says, I can't be fearless without being suicidal, and that's a line I do not wish to cross. I'm not a Dauntless adrenaline junkie. I'd rather care about what happens to me than live by the 'act now, think later' policy. Tris strikes me as that type too. Of course she went zip lining with Zeke (I could tell by how exhilarated and wind-blown she looked afterwards), but she wouldn't do anything stupid.

We continue to walk along the edge of the Pit, near the bottom of the chasm. It's a spot that I go to often, a spot that Tris seems to never have seen before. Well, of course she hasn't. She hasn't been here long. Tris suddenly looks at me curiously, and I immediately know that she's going to ask me something. Usually, I despise questions, but I can tolerate them from Tris.

"You were going to tell me about your aptitude test results," she reminds me.

"Ah," I say, scratching the back of my neck. "Does it matter?" I was hoping she'd leave that alone. How do I explain that mess? How do I tell her that I forced myself to get Abnegation? I'm Divergent also, but my test results don't reflect that. Marcus told me which options to choose while under the simulation.

"Yes, I want to know." She had to have gotten an aptitude for Erudite.

"How demanding you are," I tease while smiling. By now, we're standing at the bottom of the chasm. I let the sound of the crashing water wash over my eardrums for a minute, calming me. I don't know why I enjoy the sounds of the waterfall calms me as much as it does. Without fully realizing it, I'm leading Tris to my little spot at the bottom of the chasm. I've already shown her my fear landscape. Showing her this just seems natural now.

Reluctantly, I release her small hand after we sit down. The sounds of the rushing water and the coolness in the air in this area make me confident enough to start speaking to her again.

"These are things I don't tell people, you know. Not even my friends." I don't even tell my best friends, like Zeke. My stance was always that the truth, along with my past, is mine. It belongs to me. Now, I've finally shared it with someone.

"My results were as expected," I say evenly.

"Abnegation." And technically, I am not lying; those were my results. However, I forced it to be that way, so I still feel like I'm lying to her.

Something in her seems to deflate as she slumps her shoulders, saying, "Oh." I guess she really wanted me to be Divergent. She doesn't want to be alone on this little Divergent island she feels adrift on. Everyone has a place, a group that they are perfectly fitted to and no other one will suffice. She's different. She doesn't fit into a category, like me. That is what draws me to her.

"But you chose Dauntless anyway?" she asks, trying to mask her disappointment.

"Out of necessity," I tell her.

"Why did you have to leave?"

My eyes break away from hers and dart across the floor. If only she could figure this out sooner. Even though I willingly showed her my landscape, I still hate talking about Marcus. Telling her that I left Abnegation to join Dauntless just because of him would make me feel weak and cowardly.

"You had to get away from your dad," she answers for me. "Is that why you don't want to be a Dauntless leader? Because if you were, you might see him again?" I can feel her analyzing me like an Erudite. She has it all figured out, the clever girl.

"That, and I've always felt that I don't quite belong among the Dauntless. Not the way they are now, anyway." Like her, I feel adrift on my own little Divergent island without a permanent place to belong to.

"But you're… incredible," she says. Something in my chest prickles at being given such a compliment by her. She's amazing to me, and so, so brave and selfless. I feel awake and even more alive around her. Yet here she sits, complimenting _me_. She clears her throat awkwardly.

"I mean, by Dauntless standards. Four fears is unheard of. How could you not belong here?"

I feel disappointment settle in my stomach. I don't care about Dauntless standards. I only care about her standards.

I shrug. This whole 'Dauntless legend' thing has never suited me well. The spotlight is not my favorite place to be.

"I have a theory that selflessness and bravery aren't all that different," I tell her. "All your life you've been training to forget yourself, so when you're in danger, it becomes your first instinct. I could belong in Abnegation just as easily."

But I don't actually _belong_ anywhere, do I? The Divergent never do.

"Yeah, well, I left Abnegation because I wasn't selfless enough, no matter how hard I tied to be." I stop myself from laughing and just smile at her. Is she really always _this_ clueless when it comes to her abilities? How can she not be aware of how incredible she is?

"That's not entirely true," I remind her. "That girl who let someone throw knives at her to spare a friend, who hit my dad with a belt to protect me – that selfless girl, that's not you?" Everything she does seems to be for the benefit of others. She never acts without thinking about how it could affect others.

"You've been paying close attention, haven't you?" I tense up a bit. I knew she would notice my intense interest in her actions over those of the other initiates someday. She's not blind or stupid. However, I'm still nervous about revealing my true feelings.

"I like to observe people," I lie. She sees right through it.

"Maybe you were cut out for Candor, Four, because you're a terrible liar." The name 'Four' feels more wrong than ever now that she knows who I truly am. But she's right. I am a terrible liar. I can't do anything now but tell her the truth. I put my hand on the rock next to me so our fingers line up, bringing us closer. I take a deep breath and tell myself to toughen up.

"Fine. I watched you because I like you." I say it boldly, though inside I'm quivering. "And don't call me 'Four', okay? It's nice to hear my name again." Tris blushes and I want to reach out and run my fingers down her warm face, but I hold back.

"But you're older than I am… _Tobias_." I smile at her. I thought of that too, quite a while ago. I came to the conclusion that I just _don't care_.

"Yes, that whopping two-year age gap is really _insurmountable_, isn't it?" She's still blushing and shaking her head.

"I'm not trying to be self-deprecating," she says. "I just don't get it. I'm younger. I'm not pretty, I- ," I laugh from deeply within myself and gently touch my lips to her temple, feeling the tingling sensation I get when any part of my body touches her warm skin. She thinks that she isn't good enough for me. It's laughable. She's one of the most wondrous beings I've ever known and she thinks that she's the one not good enough for me. I was scared of not being nearly good enough for her.

"Don't pretend," she breathes out. Something about her shortness of breath both shocks me and excites me. I caused that. "You know I'm not. I'm not ugly, but I am certainly not pretty."

No, she's not _pretty_. _Pretty_ is a random, faceless girl you look at in the crowd for a few seconds before moving on. Tris is not a random, faceless girl in the crowd. When I look at her, I don't want to stop. I never want to stop.

"Fine, you're not pretty. So?" _You're so much more. _I kiss her cheek. "I like how you look. You're deadly smart. You're brave. And even though you found out about Marcus… You aren't giving me that look. Like I'm a kicked puppy or something."

"Well, you're not." The way she says that, like it's so simple and obvious, makes me impossibly happy. She has not thought of me as pathetic for even a second. She doesn't pity me, even after finding out about my past. She's treating me the same. It's more than I could have hoped for. Now, I cannot resist the temptation anymore. I've been holding back my desires for a long time, and I'll be damned if I hold them back a single second longer. She's here, she's close, and she knows the real me. What more reason do I need?

Slowly, I touch her face and lean in as close as I dare. When our lips brush, I feel embarrassingly lightheaded. The slight contact makes my stomach turn in a good way. When I can finally see that she isn't resisting me, I grin and press my mouth fully to hers.

Honestly, I have no idea how to kiss someone. But it feels so good to be in such close contact with Tris that I abandon my embarrassment quickly. She's tense, so I pull away and search her face. She doesn't look scared or embarrassed or even angry. She looks… disappointed. She looks like she wanted me to continue and she's saddened that I didn't.

Feeling my confidence return, I take the soft skin of her face in my hands and go back to kissing her, firmer this time. When I feel her return it as she wraps an arm around me and slips her hand through my hair, I think that I might be dreaming. The feeling of kissing her is addicting. The feeling of her lips against mine wipes away every sound around us and I can only focus on how a ringing sensation runs down my spine and how soft her lips feel.

Eventually, we break apart, both of us smiling like idiots, and rise together, holding hands. Something about the way she's looking at me makes me want to sit back down on the rock with her and kiss her for another hour. It's then when I remember something.

My mother always told me that someday, I'd find someone who understood me, who I never tired of being around, who knew a part of me that no one else did, and who I wanted to please in return. I gave up on finding that person, resigning myself to life alone. It was a fine life that I found quite alright until Tris came along. Now, that sentence bounces around in my head over and over again.

Have I found my person?

* * *

**A/N: The next chapter will have some more scenes from both 'Divergent' and 'Insurgent' in it. I think the two 'Allegiant' alternate endings will be the chapter AFTER the next because of how many more scenes I need to do before them. So just wait! They're coming soon!**


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